youve plucked pieces of my mind- make a collage with them and dried rose petals; blood works almost as well as glue. give it several weeks to dry and by that time youll have my sanity AND some art for the foyer. hang it above the jar with my heart inside; you may want to change the cloth underneath it, it looks like the "love" has overflown again. im sorry i keep dripping; i didnt want the vaccination, darling, i need the colours i need the life and ive been picking through my veins trying to divine relief through the blues and purples. but there is no respite from this constant ache, no lightening of this burden. youre contagious but my immune system craves this sickness; its an addiction. im left with chiffon bones that float me through a grayscale high and rob me of my senses. living in a silent film, im told what to say and when to say it; it plays on the screen after me. this ink festers under my tongue until it fills my pen with a prison cell and wonderings of an escape. my screams are unheard, unseen; they make no ghost for you to understand but instead pack themselves in my gums, strengthening the threads holding my lips together. i think half a tapestry is whats making it so hard to swallow.